


Somethings Are Meant to Be

by IdrisSmith



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: A Lot of Canon Characters Mentioned, Because I have a Lot of Feelings for Draco, But I Don't Know Many Dramione Writers, F/M, I Need to Stop Tagging This, I Tried Looking for One, I do what I want, Mostly Canon Ship, Not Beta'd, Other Ships Not Mentioned in Tags, TW: Mentioned of War, dramione - Freeform, non-epilogue compliant
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-03
Updated: 2018-09-03
Packaged: 2019-07-06 10:56:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,086
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15884637
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IdrisSmith/pseuds/IdrisSmith
Summary: The war ended. People learned to move on and rebuild. Some things ended while others began. When her only relationship ended, Hermione was content with what she thought would be her life. Of course, people changed and slowly, but surely, her life quickly intertwined with one Draco Malfoy. And why the hell are all her friends (and his friends) trying to pair them together?Clearly non-canon compliant because I do what I want.





	Somethings Are Meant to Be

**Author's Note:**

> I tried to delete this story six times. Yeah, I'm not even joking. But every time, I find a new copy tucked away in my email or my GoogleDocs or my stupid external hard drives. Clearly, this story wanted to survive or I was paranoid enough or high (on sugar, don't do drugs, kids) to make multiple copies. So, I'm putting it here. Maybe you'll appreciate it. Not BETA'd... Please don't come for my soul.

It was after the dust had settled that they realised it; they were never meant to be more than friends. There was nothing spectacular about it, there were no tears, screaming or even either of them trying to hold on to what wasn’t there in first place. Surprisingly, it was Ron who broached the subject first. Six months after the fall of Voldemort and the world was finally moving on when he had tentatively asked if she would be adverse to a talk. It wasn’t as if they never talked before, they did. Well, she talked. Ron would listen and try to understand the best he could. Yet, they both had expected it, the moment the words left his mouth. It was the end of an era.

“You know I love you, don’t you, ‘Mione?” Ron asked, looking extremely uncomfortable with what was he was about to say as they sat on the raggedy old chair.

“But this is not working out,” Hermione found herself finishing Ron’s word for him as she picked a loose thread on her jumper, the one Molly had given her for Christmas just two weeks ago, “I know.”

Ron’s shoulder sagged, possibly relieved that Hermione knew what he was trying to say before he said it. He was being mindful, but she could tell it was a topic he would much rather avoid if he could help it.

“I do care about you. You’re my best friend, but we’re a terrible couple.”

“The worst,” Hermione agreed with a laugh.

It took Ron a beat before joining her. Perhaps to others, the end of a relationship would cause more drama, a lot more than they could ever anticipate; but for Ron and Hermione, it was quiet with a little bit of laughter. It was a long time coming as the dust settled, they soon realised that what they felt was always something that was never meant to last, and if Hermione was honest with herself, she was happy to see the conclusion.

“I’ll always be your friend,” Ron said, wiping away a tear that escaped the corner of his eyes as his laughter died out. Neither he nor Hermione knew what was funny about their break up, but they laughed anyway.

“And I you,” Hermione agreed, patting Ron’s hand lightly.

Just like that; they ended, it was a good thing they never got around to moving in together or else that would have been too awkward, despite their years of friendship.

Hermione, however, did move out of Grimmauld Place, despite Harry's insistence that she was his home was her home too. She felt it was overdue, having stayed longer than she anticipated she would after the war ended. No, it just didn’t feel right for her. She needed to embark on a new chapter of her life. Her first flat was a questionable dingy place just a stone’s throw away from Knockturn Alley, but she made it her own.

* * *

 It took Ron a year after the end of the relationship to start dating again, and though Ron would never admit it, Hermione knew he did it out of respect for her. It was funny, seeing Ron was never the most observant or caring man she had ever known, but he had grown up. She was thankful for that bit, despite the sensation it had caused when news of two-thirds of the golden trio breaking up hit the gossip column.  
  
Molly was gutted, having thought Hermione and Ron would end up married in a year or two at most, but she understood. Everyone else pretty much shrugged it off, with some finding themselves celebrating – not that she could blame them. Ginny expected she had to be around handing tissues as Hermione cried her eyes out. It didn’t happen, and the former was all too happy to be relieved of emotional support duty.  
  
Harry turned out to be more thoughtful than Hermione thought he was capable of. It was the little things at first. She had a hard time figuring out where to go on nights where she used to have dates with Ron, and Harry would just show up. Sometimes they’d go out to the Muggle world because the wizarding world can get a little too much, but most days, they would just stay in. He listened when she talked even when he can barely follow her train of thought. Occasionally, they would spend the night silently playing chess, the muggle kind, though, she had to admit she was never going to be good at it.  
  
Hermione never expected anyone to understand; not entirely. However, people had mostly left her alone. There were occasional looks of pity thrown at her, but that was the worst of it. Between work and hanging out with Harry, things started to be normal again.  
  
She was still welcomed to The Burrow, and given her amicable split with Ron; they managed to salvage some sort of friendship between them. It was definitely not the same as it was when they were in school, but she was happy to still have him as a friend.

* * *

 Harry and Ginny were the first to declare their love in front of their family. Five years after the war was behind them, Harry had shown up at her new apartment, looking sick to his stomach with anxiety. Hermione had laughed at her friend, knowing why Harry was there. Ginny wasn’t the type to drop hints if Harry should be proposing since she was more than happy to be dating and playing with the Holyhead Harpies, but Molly Weasley was.  
  
It took Harry three months to find the perfect ring (because he didn’t think Ginny deserved anything less and Hermione couldn’t fault the old romantic side of Harry) and the Quidditch season break to muster up the courage. All he needed was a little pep talk from Hermione, the closest he had to a family who was not a Weasley.  
  
She was happy for Harry, she really was. But, she couldn’t help but felt a twinge of sadness as she watched her best friend waltzed away with his new bride, sharing a whispered joke and chuckling as they move about the dance floor.  
  
The Witch Weekly wasn't the only one that had a field day when Harry and Ginny got married. Other news and other publication were on board too. The Daily Prophet was all over, covering and reporting on Harry. There were reports and interviews with the newlyweds supposed closest friends. It became a game among the Weasleys on who can find the most ridiculous report there was. Four days in, Percy showed up with a report claiming Harry had a dragon tattooed across his chest. They could still hear Ginny laughing long after the Floo call ended.  
  
Unfortunately, it wasn't all good and fun. Hermione and Ron were seen talking and laughing that they became another sensational topic.  Rumours of them getting back together spread like wildfire and filled the gossip rags for weeks before Ron showed up at her office door in his Auror’s best, looking slightly irritated.  
  
“Should we comment?” He asked, throwing the latest issue of The Daily Prophet on her table. A picture of her and Ron smiling at lunch the previous day plastered across the page.  
  
She sighed, pushing the paperwork she had been reading as she gestured for Ron to take a seat. He obliged, annoyed as he was.  
  
“Maybe lunch was a bad idea,” she said thoughtfully, thumbing the edge of the paper.  
  
“We weren’t even alone. Oliver was there. Even Malfoy was tolerable enough to lunch with. Not to mention you left before any of us,” Ron complained. He buried his face in the palm of his hand and Hermione could tell he was frustrated that he was the centre of attention again.  
  
They were just settling down again; it was great not being featured in the news every other week and they even talked about how it was nice to break away from the image people had of them. Frankly, she was surprised the fact that Draco Malfoy, Hermione Granger and Ron Weasley were lunching together wasn’t the bigger news considering how they were on the opposite side of the war that nearly ravaged the entirety of the wizarding world. She hazarded a guess that there might still be people who hoped that she and Ron would be back together. It wasn't as if she could say she was surprised by it either seeing that people are still high on the joy of Harry and Ginny's nuptials.  
  
“Look at it this way,” she said lightly. “Harry and Ginny would be back from their honeymoon any day now. They might even announce a happy news.”  
  
Ron looked up at her, narrowing his eyes. “You and I both know that won’t happen. Despite mum’s insistence they should start a family soon, Ginny’s not likely to give up Quidditch this early in her career and Harry’s too much of her cheerleader in that regard to go against her wishes.”  
  
“You’re right,” Hermione said, sighing. “Maybe one of our other friends would announce their marriage or a scandal could break out. What’s Shacklebolt doing these days?”  
  
That did it; the light humour broke the tense moment. Ron laughed, holding his stomach. Kingsley Shacklebolt had always been a controversial Minister for Magic, it was a surprise how he was still one considering the number of people who would rather see someone else in the role. Both Ron and Hermione suspected it was because the man had Harry’s support, though Harry had laughed it off. He had always discounted the effect he had on people, even Ginny rolled her eyes when Harry denied it. Anyone who knew better definitely knew that the Wizarding World would much rather have the boy who lived as their Minister for Magic. Too bad for them, Harry never aspired to become one. He was happy being an Auror and knowing Harry (and Ginny); Hermione thought that he would likely retire to teach at Hogwarts someday.  
  
“It’ll blow over, Ron,” Hermione tried to assure her friend, though it felt like she was trying to comfort herself more. “They’re tabloids, this is what they do. Best we can do is ride it out or you could start to date again.”  
  
The last bit of her statement seemed to make Ron uneasy. “Yeah, like how well it turned out the last time?”  
  
“Well, you did go out with Romilda Vane. No offence to her, but even Ginny thought you were slumming and Harry was too polite to say anything else,” Hermione replied pointedly.  
  
“She wasn’t that bad,” Ron tried, despite knowing it was a losing battle, before resigning. “Yeah, you’re right. She did have a reputation of being a bit of a social climber. Now that the Weasleys are a respected family again by association to the Potters and Malfoys,” he shuddered at the mention of the Malfoy name.  
  
They were amicable towards each other, well; they were amicable towards Draco Malfoy.  
  
“You know what Hermione, how about you take one for the team this time around.”  
  
Hermione burst out laughing. “What?”  
  
“I don’t know, date Malfoy or something,” he stated indifferently.  
  
“You’ve got to be joking,” said Hermione, her eyes wide in shock, no longer laughing. “He hates my gut.”  
  
The moment she said the words, Hermione knew she walked right into Ron’s game. The redhead was grinning from ear to ear that reminded Hermione of a character from a book in the muggle world. He was enjoying this.  
  
“He doesn’t,” Ron teased, clearly knowing something she did not. An information of which shared among men she was not privy to. “Take one for the team, Hermione. I’ve been the bad guy the last three relationships I had because I broke your little heart.”  
  
“Shut up, Weasley!” Hermione snapped. Though, there was no real bite to it.  
  
Ron laughed. The tense air had completely dissipated around them as Hermione tried not to think of the idea of her dating Draco Malfoy. Everyone grew up. Especially Ron, as he no longer wanted to hex Malfoy on a daily basis. Sure, Malfoy had changed a lot since school, though there was nothing he could do about the permanent scowl on his face.  
  
The idea of her and Malfoy was crazy, and to have her ex and now best friend suggesting it was horrifying. Just because someone changed, it didn’t mean they changed that much. He was still a Malfoy and as much as she didn’t want to be prejudice against his name, it did carry a lot of weight. The Malfoys are like the Blacks, they marry for money or status to keep their line pure and despite their tolerance of muggle-borns as and muggles in regards to Narcissa seeing that Lucius never did change, it didn’t mean that the Malfoy heir would dare to step a toe out of line to even think of dating her.  
  
Not that she thought of dating him, of course.

* * *

 As it turned out, luck was on Hermione’s side as Neville and Hannah announced their impending nuptials that will take place the following spring just days after Ron’s visit to her office. The news hit like a tidal wave and soon everyone was talking about Neville and Hannah instead of her and Ron, not that she minded, she was happy for her friend.  
  
Though, between the flurry of things happening and an issue within her department, Hermione barely remembered to RSVP for her friend’s wedding. It was good that Neville, the sweetheart he always was, just assumed she would show up and Hannah was not one to argue just placed her in the wedding party on the groom side.  
  
The only upside of the whole ordeal was that the couples chose to have a quiet wedding only with closest friends and family, the media weren’t even allowed within a hundred feet of the venue. Thanks to a joint effort between Harry and Malfoy (surprising Hermione); they cast quite a charm to keep the newsmonger at bay.  
  
It suited everyone just fine when one wedding followed the next each season passed after Neville and Hannah’s nuptials. The idea of Ron and Hermione getting back together was slowly being forgotten and one by one; people started to give up the idea of them together again after the four years of the Longbottom-Abbott wedding ceremony.  
  
Hermione found herself at a dwindling singles table after each wedding party and consistently had to avoid any attempt at matchmaking by her friends. She was lucky to escape the single tables at a few weddings, like the current; the Finnigan and Thomas wedding. It wasn't surprising seeing how the two knew all too well that the golden trio much preferred to sit together, even if it was a little uncomfortable to share a table with Ron and his date; Miss Daphne Greengrass.  
  
“I’m sorry if this is awkward,” Daphne broke the silence when the two of them were left alone at the table.  
  
Harry and Ron were call out to help a panic Seamus when he accidentally set his dressing room on fire, much to the amusement of Dean. Ginny excused herself, no doubt trying to hide the fact she was suffering from a mild morning sickness symptom now that she and Harry decided to expand their family, as she didn’t want to steal the spotlight of the wedding. Hannah and Neville quietly left the table themselves when their son started screaming while Malfoy who had been relegated to their table to even out the number had found himself at the bar.  
  
“What is?” Hermione asked, sipping on the amazing choice of wine. Dean did know fine alcohol quite well.  
  
Daphne shifted in her seat, prompting Hermione to give the poor woman her attention. “You mean you and Ron?”  
  
The former Slytherin nodded, cautiously so.  
  
Hermione remembered how her family had been a huge supporter of blood purity and she didn't have to guess what they had said about her dating Ron. They weren’t happy; if there were any truths in the news. But Astoria, the younger Greengrass, had made a comment on how happy she was that her sister found someone who loved her despite her crazy family. Hermione decided then that she liked the sisters. They didn’t have a choice, being raised in a toxic environment, but they grew up and made a choice to be better people. She only hoped that she was truly happy with Ron.  
  
“Ron and I are friends,” she said, placing her hand on top of Daphne’s that was on her lap. Hermione noted she was trying to appear smaller in the crowd of people she wasn’t sure would welcome her. “We realised it long ago being a couple was not for us, despite what people felt about it. You have nothing to be worried about, I’m really happy for you and Ron.”  
  
“Truly?” Daphne asked, her voice was barely audible and filled with concern that Hermione had to fight the urge to pull her into a hug.  
  
She took a long hard look at the girl who was once the prettiest in school. Well, if she was honest, Daphne grew up to be far more beautiful since her school days. The confidence that once were flowing through the beauty was dim, she wondered why.  
  
Carefully, spoke again. “Are you really happy with Ron?”  
  
It appeared that Daphne hadn’t expected to be asked such a question. It wasn’t that Hermione doubted the young woman’s motive or that Ron didn’t deserve someone as beautiful and from recent evident, kind woman. It was just that they were literally the least likely to have ended up together. It had been a surprise to everyone when Ron announced he was dating Daphne and privately to Hermione and Harry that he was seriously considering marriage to the former Slytherin beauty.  
  
“Let me rephrase that,” Hermione dialled back. “I’m not accusing you of anything. I just want you to know, I do care a lot for Ron as a friend, but I care about you too. You don’t have to settle if Ron is not what you wanted in life.”  
  
“I—I’m not settling,” Daphne admitted quietly. “I know I didn’t even look at him when we were in school. But, we meet a couple of years ago and talked, and I realise he was lovely. You know how you thought one thing of a person and you have all this idea of them only to be proven wrong?”  
  
Hermione nodded when Daphne looked up at her expectantly.  
  
“Ron’s like that to me,” she admitted and Hermione sighed, relieved to hear the words. “I know he could do better than someone from a family like mine. And Molly is the loveliest woman I’ve ever met. But, I love him and I’m scared if he soon realised that I’m not worth the grief he’d be subjected to.”  
  
It hit Hermione like a ton of bricks. Not because she still loved Ron the way Daphne did or ever would. It was because she realised she never did. She cared for her friend. A life with the person Ron had grown up to be wouldn’t be terrible, but she would have done Ron a great disservice. She spotted Ron and Harry walking back to the table and the redhead’s gaze fixed on her, looking concerned. It was nice to see, Ronald Weasley truly in love. She smiled in assurance as her friends took their respective seats.  
  
“We were exchanging notes about your terrible habits,” Hermione teased when Ron easily slipped an arm behind Daphne’s back.  
  
Ron pulled a face. Harry laughed with Ginny returning just in time. She looked radiant with early pregnancy glow as she leaned into her husband.  
  
“What did I miss?” Ginny asked as Harry instinctively wrapped his hand around his wife’s waist, resting his palm across her stomach.  
  
“Ron’s bad habits,” Harry supplied to Ron scowling face.  
  
“I trust it would be plenty,” said a monotone voice, joining in to tease Ron.  
  
Hermione nearly jumped only to realise it was Malfoy who had found his seat again, nursing a glass of Scotch he had acquired the taste for after spending one too many boys night out with Ron, Harry and Neville.  
  
Harry commented on how Malfoy looked murderous to be drag out of his flat (he refused to live at the Malfoy Manor after the death of his parents) once. Yet, didn't seem to mind at all that he was subjected to a night out with former Gryffindor when they reach the bar on the stretch of road where The Leaky Cauldron was on.  
  
They liked him, even Ron, though the men would rather die than admit such things. So, they’ve done just that, hang out and pretend they could still hate each other when they don’t, not even a little bit.  
  
“Watch it, Malfoy,” Ron warned, though there was no real bite in his tone.  
   
“Oh, I’m Malfoy again then?” Malfoy drawled as Neville and Hannah returned with their now contentedly sleeping toddler.  
  
“Yup, unless you ended up with Hermione or something and she changes her name,” Ron teased.  
  
Hermione spat out the drink she had been drinking, coughing.  
   
“What the fuck?” she yelped to the chorus of, “language!” from her friends.  
   
“He’s a baby and he’s asleep,” Hermione replied, fuming as she crossed her arms across her chest.  
  
They had laughed at her but teased her no further.  
  
It wasn’t until later in the night that she caught up with Harry, away from their friends that the brave Gryffindor broached the subject again; in a manner of speaking. Ginny had once again mysteriously disappeared into the bathroom to nurse her morning sickness that lasted very well into the night.  
  
“What’s up?” Hermione asked, bracing for what was coming.  
  
Harry looked positively uncomfortable, though there was a determination in his eyes. “I know Ron’s joke was crass, but he has a point. Ginny agrees as well,” he said, putting his hand up when Hermione showed signs to interrupt. “This blood purity thing, the whole thing we had to fight against is in the past. Malfoy’s not likely to make a move unless you say something. He doesn’t think he’s worthy of you.”  
   
“What?” Hermione said dumbly.  
   
“He’s a terrible drunk, don’t tell him I told you that,” Harry said, grinning sheepishly. “I wouldn’t have said this ten years ago so you can take trust me when I say the guy has changed. His parents aren’t around to make his life miserable anymore. There’s nothing stopping either of you to pursue whatever it is between you two.”  
  
“Harry,” Hermione placed a hand on his arm to stop him this time. It was a bit too much for her to handle. It was one thing to look at Malfoy and thought of the possibility and another to jump into a relationship with someone she punched when she was thirteen. “Malfoy and I barely even talk. The only few times we were even alone together was when we had to discuss work, stuck in a polite exchange in a lift and he had been nothing but professional.”  
  
“You don’t see it?” Harry asked looking every bit confused.  
  
Hermione wondered when Harry became so perceptive of the people around him. Maybe he always was but preferred to keep it to himself and it was everyone else that was none-the-wiser.  
  
“I—he can’t be," she replied, trying to process the idea that her feelings she had been trying to suppress were actually reciprocated and she didn't even realise it. "I’m me.”  
  
“You’re Hermione Granger and he’s Draco Malfoy. The rest are just stupid things,” he countered. “I know I’m not supposed to say this because Ron wanted to tell you himself, but I think he’ll forgive me for this one.”  
  
Hermione arched a questioning eyebrow. “What?”  
   
“Ron’s asking Daphne to marry him, tonight,” Harry said. “Molly knew about it since last week and had been all too happy on top of Ginny’s pregnancy I’m surprised she hadn’t bounced off the walls yet. People changed and everyone had moved on, give yourself and Draco a chance.”  
  
She laughed, Hermione really laughed. They had fair shares of good news over the years, but nothing made her happier to hear that her best friends are moving on with their lives. There was a twinge of envy in her, but mainly because it felt like she was being left behind, still where she was ten years ago, only with a different job title.  
  
“And when are you announcing Ginny’s pregnancy?” Hermione asked, ignoring the last bit of urging by Harry. Only people closest to them knew about Ginny’s when she broke the news two days previously, as was preferred by the couple.  
  
“It’ll hit the news tomorrow. Ron won't be making an announcement about his engagement until next week. Something about a week without being in the spotlight was all he wanted,” Harry explained. “I can’t blame him and Daphne seems fine with the arrangement.”  
  
“I’m happy for them,” Hermione said, nodding. “For you and Ginny too.”  
  
“Thank you,” Harry said and without missing a beat, firmly reiterating that he didn’t care if Hermione decided she liked Draco. What mattered was that she was happy. “You know there’s nothing stopping you from being happy as well, right?”

* * *

 To say that Hermione spent her night with sleep escaping her after the talk would be an understatement. She showed up to work on Monday looking worse for wear when she spent her weekend doing nothing but with thoughts of Malfoy.  
  
It was crazy, she decided. While she wouldn’t call Harry or Ron a liar, she doubted that Malfoy felt anything but fleeting intrigue in regards to her. She decided to leave it alone, it was better because she knew that breaking things off with Ron was easy, but breaking off with Malfoy if things go wrong would kill her.  
  
She was a nightmare for weeks afterwards. Her staffs were happy to leave her alone for fear of dealing with her wrath.

* * *

 The Greengrass decided to begrudgingly accept the engagement between Ron and Daphne when it was announced. They had very little connections left in terms of marrying into respectable pureblood family (given that Draco, the only living Malfoy and considered an eligible bachelor had vehemently refused marriage proposals even arranged by the closest relatives he had left) that they can’t be picky for their eldest daughter.  
  
Astoria had been more than happy and made it known so among her circle of friends that Ron Weasley, the war hero, was to be her brother-in-law. Hermione was happy that at least one member of the Greengrass family was more than accepting of Ron and Daphne.  
  
Unlike Harry and most of their friends who generally took up to more than a year, Ron’s engagement to Daphne was a short one. They got married a month after the engagement was announced to the thrill of Molly Weasley. He joked in private that he was worried Daphne would change her mind.  
  
Harry and Hermione could only nod, and pat their friend’s back, knowing there were truths in his words. Ron was terrified because he loved Daphne and there was no denying that. His eyes followed Daphne when they’re in a room but apart and his hands were always touching her in an acceptable manner within polite society when they sat side by side.  
  
“He’s not getting cold feet, is he?” Daphne asked; worries was etched all over her face when she saw Hermione walking into the bridal suite.  
  
Astoria had politely excuse herself, pulling Tracey Davis (a former Slytherin Daphne had gotten along with after Hogwarts) along with her and another of their cousin; Laurel.  
  
“No,” Hermione laughed good-naturedly. “If anything he’s wondering why he’s not married yet. Harry’s trying to calm him down.”  
  
She watched as Daphne relaxed her posture. Ginny was right. Daphne looked beautiful with her blonde locks that Fleur went as far as stating that the Weasley future generation features will improve with each marriage. And yes, she considered Harry would help in improving the Weasley future generation as well, to which Harry awkwardly thanked her for.  
  
“I’m sorry; I’m still scared he’d change his mind. I know I shouldn’t act this way. He did ask me instead of thousands of other women, And God knows he had put my mind at ease over the year. But, I can’t help it sometimes,” Daphne confessed.  
  
“You love him too much,” Hermione said, moving to join Daphne on the couch. “I get that. Don’t worry about it. I’ll tell you a little secret and promise not to tell anyone.”  
  
Daphne nodded.  
  
“Ron’s terrified you’ll change your mind. He’s still trying to figure out his luck of finding you in love with him because he can’t think of a reason as to why you’d marry him. He said he’d understand if it was Charlie because he was cool. Not Percy though,” Hermione said.  
  
“Oh,” Daphne said, a shy smile forming on her lips. “He must know he’s the sweetest, loveliest man I ever met. I mean, he forgets to open the door for me and basic etiquette sometimes escaped him. But, he remembers the little things like how I take my tea or how I like the scones from this Muggle shop in the opposite direction of his flat to mine.”  
  
“Yeah, that doesn’t sound like Ron,” Hermione deadpanned and chuckle.  
  
She decided it was a good thing Ron was never like that with her or any woman as far as she knew, at least. It meant that Daphne mattered to him that he would go out of his way for the woman we were about to marry. Ron was serious about Daphne, despite his occasional jokes. And his worries were real because he didn’t think he even stood a chance with her in the first place.  
  
“Take a deep breath. We’ll see you out there in five. You’re marrying the love of your life today.”  
  
The sight of Daphne beaming at her warmed Hermione’s heart. They had become slightly closer and she hoped they would get closer after the wedding. In school, they would have never been friends, but, they are all adults now. It was only right to put the past behind her. She gave Daphne one last pat on her arm before getting up to excuse herself and was nearly at the door when Daphne’s voice stopped her.  
  
“Hermione,” Daphne said tentatively. “You might want to give Draco a chance to be more than just a colleague; he’s only been in love with you since at least our Sixth Year.”  
  
“Did Ron put you up to that?” Hermione asked as she swivelled around. “It’s not funny.”  
   
Daphne shook her head slowly. “No, it took Ron and everyone else who are not Slytherin longer to notice that Draco had always been in love with you. Pansy might have caught his fancy for a bit because it was expected, she is pureblood. But, he was lying to himself more and more it’s getting to Theo. He’s so close to locking you two up in a room and dosing you two with love potions.”  
  
“Oh,” Hermione said dumbly.  
   
“Don’t worry; Ginny threatened him with castration if he even dared to purchase a love potion. The boys are scared of her more than Harry who’s an Auror. Harry’s seriously thinking of ways to outlaw love potions. I think he’d win that case considering how well love potions turned out for you-know-who,” Daphne said evenly.  
  
It was hard to believe Harry was doing paperwork and considering pushing a bill, but time had changed and they all had grown up. The story of Voldemort’s life became public knowledge a couple of years after the end of the war, though nobody seemed to know how it got out. Harry had told her he had some ideas but thought to leave things to rest.  
  
While there was no law against love potions, people had generally frowned upon the use since. Even the Weasley Wizarding Wheezes had pulled the mildest love potion from their line. George looked positively sick himself, realising that what may seem harmless to one could create a catastrophic chain of events.  
  
“Don’t you think Malfoy and I would be a bad idea?” Hermione couldn’t help but ask.  
  
Daphne shrugged. “At least be friends first and see how it goes. You owe it to yourself to be happy.”  
  
It was strange to be sitting at the table with Malfoy, leave it to both Ron and Daphne to want to gently push her in the right direction. But, not at all terrible. They had sat separately during the ceremony given that Hermione was on the groom’s side while Malfoy was on the bride’s side. Malfoy kept mostly to himself, barely speaking unless spoken to, not even Bill Weasley excitedly joining the table talking about his latest curse-breaking escapade moved the stoic man. It took him an hour, she checked, before he excused himself to the open bar, courtesy of Harry and George.  
  
“I always thought he’d be marrying you,” Molly confessed as she sat next to Hermione, watching the bride and groom sway to the slow music.  
  
She had been all over the place all day, happy to see her youngest boy marry. Everyone knew there was no chance of changing Charlie’s mind on marriage. So, Molly had accepted the fact that only most of her children did and it was enough for her. As long as Charlie stopped joking about how she had to knit for her dragon-grandchild.  
  
Of course, she was happy that Ron had decided not to elope like George and Angelina did. No one really blamed the two though; understanding for George his wedding without his twin would be too much for him. As for Angelina, she was never the type who cared about frilly thing such as weddings. They were happy and that was enough.  
  
Ron looked happy with his smile never leaving his face while Daphne was far more reserved in her happiness and kept her expressions mostly neutral, saved for the smile that crept on her face every few moments. However, those who knew the couple knew better, Daphne loved Ron deeply and fiercely.  
  
“I didn’t,” Hermione replied with an apologetic look on her face. It was time to put things to bed, in case Molly was still hopeful. She wasn’t willing to destroy her best friend’s marriage for whatever reason. “I cared for him, but I never did imagine my whole life with him.”  
  
Molly nodded. “I’m not sad dear,” she said, patting Hermione’s arm lightly. “I knew it was a wishful thinking on my part and nothing more. I’m just happy you and Ron figured it out sooner rather than later.”  
  
To say that Hermione was surprised was an understatement. She gaped at Molly, trying to find her words. “Molly, I—”  
  
“You’re like a daughter to me, Hermione. Whether or not you had married Ron — or any of my children, you will always be,” Molly cut off Hermione before she could finish the sentence. “I just wanted you to be happy. Are you though, happy?”  
  
Hermione found herself stunned. She looked at the ageing woman who had always had room for her in her youth and knew that lying to her wasn’t an option. But, she didn’t know what to say either, so she went with the truth.  
  
“I don’t know,” she said, worrying her lower lip. “I love my job and I am happy with where my life is going professionally, but I don’t think I care much of my personal life.”  
  
“You have to make the time,” Molly replied, again, patting Hermione’s arm lovingly. “I know you were always the smartest girl and now the smartest woman I know. But, chasing a career at the expense of your heart won’t do you any good in the long run.”  
  
Hermione was about to open her mouth to say something when they were interrupted by George. She wasn’t sure whether she was glad or irritated by the man. Yet, she managed a smile as George stopped in front of them.  
  
“Mum, I don’t know how, but Cousin Barnaby found your stash of good alcohol,” George said, looking annoyed.  
  
“That weasel!” Molly exclaimed, jumping to her feet, shooting an apologetic look to Hermione as she did so. “Excuse me, dear.”  
  
Hermione watched as Molly walked away, quite possibly trying to pry away whatever left of her booze away from her cousin with a smile. It was never boring with the Weasley and if she had been lucky enough to have her heart stolen by one of the Weasley men, she would have been very happy. It was too bad it wasn’t the case. Her heart was with a certain blonde with a charred past and questionable future.  
  
“Molly gave you the talk?” A man with a familiar voice asked and Hermione snapped her head towards the direction.  
  
Beside her, the one and only heir of the Malfoy fortune who had begrudgingly befriend her friends stood stiffly. He had changed from the boy she knew from school and over the years she knew him through a brief exchange in the lift as he made his way to yet another ministry branch or their meetings where he was always concise and professional, she could say he was very different from the boy he once was.  
  
“You too?” She asked, guessing she wasn’t the only one who Molly had subjected to the talk.  
  
Draco shrugged his shoulders, much to the amusement of Hermione. “Well, between her and my Aunt Andromeda, it had been quite a tag team.”  
  
“Have a seat Malfoy, I don’t bite,” Hermione said when she noticed the man was still standing.  
  
A chuckle escaped Draco’s lips. “Only if you call me Draco, Granger.”  
  
“Not unless you stop calling me Granger, I do have a name,” Hermione countered, not willing to back down.  
  
Draco smirked, unmoving for a moment as if weighing his options. Then, far more graceful than any men ought to be, he pulled his chair he had abandoned earlier and sat next to her at the empty table. “You drive a hard bargain, Hermione,” he said as he sat.  
  
She smirked at him in return. “It’s been close to ten years since we left school and we haven’t even been close to anything resembling a nemesis to each other for much longer. Referring to each other with our last names seem juvenile.”  
  
“Mind giving some of your friends the memo?” Draco quipped.  
  
“You have to learn to pick your battles, Draco,” Hermione teased easily.  
  
They weren’t friends — not really. But, she found herself far more comfortable talking to the former Slytherin and Death Eater over the past years since the fall of Voldemort than she ever did her friends. He was never short on witty comebacks during their meetings; the good nature kind and always pertaining to their work. It was also nice to have someone with the same level of thinking as she did. He had returned to Hogwarts after the war ended as well and she had watched him struggled to break away from the horrors of his past. She was glad he survived it all; he came out victorious at the end.  
  
Sure, his battles didn’t stop after this father was thrown in Azkaban. He had to fight for his freedom and grow up so much harder than anyone could ever imagine. At eighteen, he had to stand trial against the crime he had committed under duress and was acquitted, watch his mother fell into the pits of depression and never quite recovered. And then salvaged what was left of his family’s inheritance not because he thought he deserved it, but because he wanted to do better. He was a boy and he fought hard.  
  
It all paid off. He took a different turn than his father, forging ahead by investing in various businesses on top of consultations for the Ministry, even as far as getting involved with Weasley Wizard Wheezes when George needed the extra boost to expand the business all over the world. Ron had been wary at first, but Harry surprised them and spoke in favour of the Slytherin. Draco more than survived, but he was alone. Lucius died in Azkaban two years into his sentence and his mother slipped away in her sleep shortly after. While he appeared to be fine for he never gave any indication that he wasn’t, anyone with half a mind could tell Draco wasn’t fine.  
  
Molly had reached out to him then, welcoming him into the Weasley fold and though he was reluctant to mix business with pleasure, Hermione was informed by Ginny that Draco did manage at least one dinner a month as to appease the Molly Weasley. Though Molly wasn’t alone in welcoming the scarred boy into the family, Andromeda Tonks had practically twisted Draco’s arm to join her for tea or outings ever so often, even as far as babysitting for Baby Teddy one too many times that Draco was comfortable with children around him.  
  
“I shall keep that in mind,” Draco said, chuckling. Hermione was pleased he was finally talking to her instead of remaining passive and at a distance. “Well, that’s the second last of our class.”  
  
“What do you mean?” Hermione asked, arching her eyebrow.  
  
“Relax Hermione. I only meant that it’ll be you next and then all of those we started our first year with would be married,” Draco replied calmly, smiling.  
  
“What about you?” Hermione asked before she could stop herself. “Did you find yourself married over the past year that no one knows about?”  
  
Draco chuckled darkly. “No,” he said. “I think, perhaps letting the family line end with me isn’t such a bad idea.”  
  
Hermione sat shocked. “You’re not so bad,” she tried to comfort him.  
  
Only then, she remembered how the once-troubled man changed. Oh, she had heard of his reputation in school, of course, she had. He was young, rich and despite his many misgivings, young girls of similar breeding flocked around him. Between Pansy and several other Slytherin girls their year (excluding the new Mrs Ron Weasley who was more of a sister to him), Malfoy did get around. He stopped only late in their sixth year; perhaps someone should have noticed it then. How much he needed someone to reach out to him, to save his soul. Too bad, no one did. Not even Snape was able to save him from the downward spiral.  
  
“That’s very kind of you to say, Hermione,” he said with a small smile. “I better leave you to it and get back to the bar. It would be a bad idea to linger and catch the attention of the tabloid; it’ll ruin your reputation.”  
  
He made a move to rise from his seat, to walk away and Hermione didn’t know why, but she wanted him to stay. “Stay,” she said hastily. “I think it’ll be less sensational of a topic than Weasley ex-girlfriend looks morose at his wedding.”  
  
Not that she was, of course. She was happy for Ron. But, the tabloid as they all knew, could be vicious and full of shit and she would much rather be gossiped about for hanging with Draco Malfoy than to be seen as a woman scorned. Truth be told, she hated being painted as a jealous ex more than being seen as Draco Malfoy’s partner. No, she wouldn’t hate it if she was assumed to be his partner, only it wouldn’t be true and she found herself suppressing a sigh at the thought.  
  
Once again, it looked like Draco was weighing his option and Hermione exhaled in relief when he sat back, making himself comfortable.  
  
“Well, I’ll be your armour tonight,” he agreed, ever the gentleman. Of course, he was, the man still pulled a chair out for her when she arrived later than he did during their meeting.  
  
They fell into an easy conversation and it wasn’t until it was really late and he had to excuse himself that Hermione noticed how much she enjoyed his company. She had almost wished she had taken his offer to accompany her home as she stared at her ceiling, unable to find sleep.

* * *

 “So...” Harry broke the silence, prompting Hermione to look up from the paper she was reading.  
  
It had been a month since Ron and Daphne’s wedding and the first time anyone seemed to dare to ask about what the tabloid was insinuating about the nature of the relationship between Hermione and Draco. Hermione wasn’t even surprised Harry was the one who broke first.  
  
“Ask what you want, Potter,” she teased him lightly. She knew the moment he walked into her office with the pretext of discussion on the security details of visiting dignitaries he would want to ask her the question.  
  
Harry was sensible enough to look abashed. “I know you can take care of yourself and I know I did tell you to take a chance on him. I just...I just want you to know you can talk to me.”  
  
Hermione chuckled. On one hand, she felt that it was sweet that Harry cared while on the other, she found it hilarious. Sure, between the two of them, Harry was the badass Auror, but they both knew Hermione would kick his arse before he even got his wand out.  
  
“Draco and I are friends,” she said firmly. A fact, that was all.  
  
Harry’s eyebrows shoot to his hairline, clearly noting Hermione’s use of Draco’s first name. It wasn’t strange for Harry and Draco to be on a first name basis, they had been at it for a while ever since Harry’s vote of confidence in the Slytherin, but most everyone else had kept to calling him Malfoy. Now even more so that he was the last, much to Draco’s annoyance.  
  
“Be careful with him, Hermione,” Harry said. It wasn’t a warning, it wasn’t even a reminder for her to be careful with herself around him. She understood it well enough; Harry was looking out for a friend, the same way he would look out for Ron and her.  
  
She knew she didn’t owe Harry anything, but she also knew her lifelong friend. A smile formed on her lips as she promised him, “I will don’t worry.”

* * *

 “Weren’t you supposed to have lunch with Weaslette?” Draco asked.  
  
He chuckled as Hermione took a stab at her salad. It wasn’t her favourite choice of lunch, but she was trying to be healthy after falling asleep on the job one too many time. Draco had told her it was because she was a workaholic and it had nothing to do with her bad eating habits involving pizzas and Chinese.  
  
“You can blame your best friend for that. He got the week off and Molly said she’d look after James. Of course, he would whisk his wife away for a little R and R,” Hermione replied sullenly.  
   
She really shouldn’t hold it against Harry or Ginny. Between their careers and James who was born five months ago, the couple hardly had any time together. It was terrible for them seeing they had always been joined at the hips ever since they got together, long before they even got married. Harry was too much, and hopelessly in love with his wife.  
  
Draco chuckled. “Well, I might not be as pretty as Weaslette, but I bet I can provide a far more stimulating conversation than her.”  
  
“Did you just call Ginny pretty?” Hermione asked with an arched eyebrow. Humour was thick in her tone.  
   
Draco mimicked her facial expression, leaning forward as he did so. “Am I not allowed?”  
   
“Not unless you want Harry to threaten your life,” she replied teasingly. Hoping that Draco thought it was a joke, unfortunately, it didn’t have the effect she was looking for.  
  
Draco paled. “You’re not going to tell him, are you?”  
   
“You’re that scared of Harry?” She asked, surprised.  
   
“Worse, Weaslette,” Draco admitted without any reservation.  
  
Of course, there were no secrets between Harry and Ginny, she knew that much. The couple made a point to talk to each other always. They are probably the couple with the healthiest relationship Hermione was aware of. Neither Ginny nor Harry tiptoed around each other. Plus, even when Draco and Harry were friends, she doubted Harry could resist messing with Draco. Ginny would play along, she was far too much of a good sport not to.  
  
And it shouldn’t be funny, but, Hermione supposed the memory of her hex, despite being years ago was still fresh in his mind. Not to mention, Ginny did have a reputation of being able to hold her own that Harry mostly stood aside and chuckle as Ginny handled things. It wasn’t because he was incapable to defend his wife, that much Hermione knew. It was because Harry knew that Ginny could take care of herself and if she needed any help, she would have asked him. It was pointless to be overprotective of a woman he knew was capable on her own right, given that he was being referred to Ginny Potter’s husband these days instead of the other way around.  
  
Hermione laughed, filling the room. “Well, I don’t know.” She wanted to milk it; it was rare to see real fear in Draco’s eyes that didn’t involve anything dark like the war.  
  
“Name your price, I swear. I’d rather not be on that woman’s bad side,” Draco said, his eyes were filled with worries, perhaps considering the horror that Ginny could possibly inflict upon him.  
   
“I’ll think about it.”

* * *

 They were always together, between their mutual friends, or her friends or his friends cancelling on them, they kept finding themselves spending more and more time together. Not that Hermione minded the company; it was nice to see Draco’s interest in anything she brought to his attention. From Shakespeare to Stephen King, Draco had not looked down on her reading suggestion. In fact, he seemed eager to find more reading materials in the world and he had, on more than one occasion, accompany her to a Muggle bookstore, dressed to the T, causing several heads to turn at him.  
  
“What happened to T-Shirt and jeans, Draco,” she hissed under her breath when he showed up in a three-piece suit.  
   
“My meeting ran long, I didn’t have time to go home and change,” he replied flatly as if it was nothing to be of concern, well, it wasn’t a problem per se, rather a bit of an issue of him being far too overdressed for a common outing when she was in her raggedy shirt and trousers.  
  
“You could have cancelled with me,” she countered, feeling more self-conscious by the minute, making a mental note to invest in a better wardrobe for their outing or risk looking like a charity case next to him.  
  
He didn’t notice, of course, he never noticed because to him everything was exciting and he was following her lead. She couldn’t help but find that side of him both endearing and frustrating.  
  
He gave a hard look. “I didn’t think my choice of attire would be a problem seeing I’m wearing a suit, not a robe.”  
   
Hermione tried, she really did, but she didn’t know how to explain to Draco that an average Muggle man wouldn’t be seen walking around in a suit on a daily basis like it was their second skin, worse when the suit looked like it was tailored to their body. Moreover, average muggle men don’t look like they just walked out of a GQ magazine as they strolled into a bookstore on a Saturday afternoon either.  
  
“At least lose the tie,” she said, sighing in defeat.  
   
Luckily, Draco relented on that note. He pulled his tie from around his neck, neatly folding it before shoving it into his breast pocket. “Better?”  
   
“Not quite,” Hermione said, tiptoeing to unbutton the first two button of his dress shirt without thinking. She was doing a lot less thinking around him and though she knew it was dangerous, she loved every minute of it. “Now, it’s better.”  
  
“If you wanted to get me out of my clothes, Hermione. You only need ask,” Draco teased, a smile was wide on his face.  
   
“Shut up,” Hermione retorted, her brain short-circuiting from coming up with a comeback. She opted to stalk off, leaving Draco chuckling as he caught up with her.

* * *

The game they are playing was dangerous and they knew it. But, neither was willing to pull away from another that it became a normal thing for them to show up together even though they weren’t a couple. None of their friends wanted to question what they were doing. Actually, no one dared to ask, perhaps realising how fragile the balance in the first place.  
  
So, when Hermione showed up at The Burrow with Draco for Christmas, even Molly kept what she wanted to say to herself. They all pretended because they wanted both of them to be happy. Ron shrugged when he handed Draco his present from Molly, the traditional Weasley jumper. They took their annual picture as if nothing was out of place and no one said anything when Hermione and Draco sat a little too close, beaming like a happy couple.  
  
With more time spent between them, the more comfortable they are in each other’s presence, even with nothing said. It wasn’t until they received a joint invitation for a wedding of an underclassman when she was at his flat that Hermione felt like she had been dropped into a bucket of iced water. The burning fireplace didn’t help and Hermione felt as if she could feel the freezing January weather just outside the walls.  
   
Of course, Draco didn’t see the problem, marking their attendance swiftly before sending the owl off without even blinking an eye.  
  
“They think we’re together,” she said pointedly, despairing the fact that they finally have to have the talk.  
  
She was enjoying avoiding the subject of whatever they were doing and was hoping for a bit more time. But, Luna’s wedding invitation served as a reminder she can’t do that anymore, not without risking breaking her heart in the process.  
  
Draco looked up from another muggle thriller he had picked up earlier at the bookstore to look at her. Her breath hitched at the intensity of his gaze. They had been carefully teasing around each other, never fully taken the jump by declaring what either felt. It was just safer and less terrifying for them both when things were left unsaid.  
  
“It’s Luna Lovegood, perhaps she was too lost in her world to remember the details,” Draco said, though there was no real indication he even believed what he was saying.  
   
Hermione sighed, pacing around the room, contemplating an escape. “What are we doing?”  
   
That did it; Draco placed his book aside on the coffee table before leaning forward, hands on his knee. The brief silence was almost deafening for Hermione as she looked at the man who could make or break her.  
   
“Let’s not do this,” he said, his voice was filled with an unspoken warning.  
   
It looked like it was heading to a heartbreak after all, but Hermione pressed on. “We’re not doing anything.”  
   
“Hermione, please,” Draco pleaded, running his fingers through his hair, messing it up. The usually composed man looked positively defensive.  
  
“I can’t,” she said and watched him put his armour they worked so hard to peel away over the past year up again. “We have to talk about this. Whatever this is.”  
   
“No, we don’t,” he snapped at her, raising from his seat. They were in his flat, his safe place and yet she had all the power.  
  
He was quick on his feet, finding the path towards the door, but Hermione had anticipated the move, apparating the short distance, blocking him from his escape. It was good that for a wizard, Draco seemed to forget he could just literally pop out of his own house when cornered.  
   
“That’s cheating,” he hissed, eyes narrowed down at her.  
   
“It’s not my fault you forget that you’re a wizard,” she said, trying to lighten the mood.  
   
Unfortunately, there was no use. She saw the sad smile on his face as he reached for his coat to his left, hung neatly next to hers. He already felt too far away and he was standing inches away from her. Perhaps a jibe about forgetting he was a wizard wasn’t something she should have said.  
   
“I’m sorry,” he whispered, fading from her view before she could even reach out to grab him.

* * *

He never came back that night. In fact, he never came back at all. Months went by just like that and despite Harry’s attempt to cheer her up as well as the exclusive seasons' ticket to the Holyhead Harpies Ginny had given her now that she returned to Quidditch, Hermione found herself in the worst mood possible. Still, she showed up at every game along with the Weasleys and Harry, cheering for Ginny. It was better than sitting in her empty flat, doing nothing.  
   
“At least he’s alive,” Harry said, eyeing the wand Hermione had left out on her desk. Anyone who knew Hermione knew not to take chances with her when she was in a foul mood and given the only person who had seemed to manage to keep her irritability at bay was missing, even Shacklebolt had left talking to Hermione to Harry, much to Harry’s annoyance. “George heard from him about the new store there was opening in Canada.”  
   
Hermione rolled her eyes. “Thanks,” she snapped.  
   
“I’m sorry,” Harry spoke carefully. “Well, I’m not really sorry. It’s not the outcome I had foreseen when I advised you to take a chance with him.”  
   
“You didn’t?” Hermione said, her eyes narrowing even more. “You’re the closest person to him, Harry. I would even call him your best friend at this point given how well you two get on and you couldn’t guess he’d fled the moment things get too much for him?”  
   
Harry shook his head. “No. Truthfully no.”  
   
“Maybe you got it wrong, maybe I was reading too much into whether he even cared for me enough to try.”  
   
“You weren’t,” Harry said, shaking his head furiously now. “Hermione, I don’t think he knows what it’s like to have someone really care for him anymore. I mean Molly and Andromeda did their best, but, Draco hadn’t been the same after his mother died on top of everything else, and we both know that she was the only person who had genuinely loved him throughout his life. His father saw him nothing but an heir that was expected to fall in line.”  
   
“It’s not my job, Harry,” Hermione said, sighing. “It’s not my job to fix broken men. I can help him if he’d let me, but don’t think for a second it was my job to somehow undo years’ worth of neglect. He has to do that himself.”  
   
“I know,” Harry mumbled, nodding in agreement. “I don’t think he expects you to do that either and no one expects you to do that as well.” Harry paused, looking at his childhood friend. The woman who had been through a lot with him, a sister he never had. “I couldn’t help him either. He’ll come back; you can at least believe that.”  
   
“How can you be so sure when you couldn’t tell he would do the things he did?” Hermione challenged him.  
   
“Because he had been trying,” Harry replied and Hermione could tell he believed every single word he said. “And you’re here. He’ll come back to you.”

* * *

 

If Luna had anything to say when Hermione showed up alone at the wedding, she had kept it to herself. The seat reserved for Draco was left empty, no one talked about it. No one talked about Draco at all. Fortunately, the marriage of the grandson of the wizarding world’s renowned Mazoologist was far a better topic to print. The union of two old wizarding families that no one saw coming was the talk of the town. Luna didn’t seem to care for the attention and Rolf was, well, Hermione didn’t know him well enough to comment. As long as they were happy.

* * *

 

It was good; however, that she didn’t see any pity in her friends’ eyes. George pretty much pressed on, occasionally telling her he had heard from Draco. Only, George never used the name. It was always; “he wrote,” or “I received a letter from him” as an assurance that Draco hadn’t gone off to die.  
  
Ginny, despite the fact she used to hate the man, said nothing bad about Draco leaving. Hermione suspected Harry had gone through a lengthy explanation to make his wife understand. Daphne invited her to her place for tea one too many times because Ron was always busy (he was working hard to ensure his children would have a better life than he did) and not having an adult conversation after her son was born was driving her mad.

“You’ve heard from him, haven’t you?” Hermione asked Daphne one afternoon during tea. Hugo was fast asleep in his cot just to Daphne’s left.  
   
Daphne nodded. “I can’t tell you what he wrote about, but I can tell you he’s fine.”  
   
“You must think I’m a fool, only waiting around for him though,” Hermione said, chuckling.  
   
“No,” Daphne replied, shaking her head. “You’re not pining over him in some sense. Sure, you’re a nightmare ever so often at the office – Tracey’s not even in your department and she’s avoiding you. But, you’re still you. You go to work, did all the things you want to do and you’ve tried to go on dates. I heard it didn’t go too well, still, you’re trying.”  
   
“Hannah told you?” Hermione asked, groaning inwardly.  
   
“Ginny,” Daphne supplied. “And she said people should learn by now you’re not the type to do things you don’t want to do. I heard the guy’s not at all bothered about it, he ended up with a girl he met at the bar or something and Hannah had sworn off from fixing you up ever again.”  
   
“Good for him and thank Merlin for that,” Hermione said, relieved. It wasn’t that she didn’t want to try to go on a date.

It was just everything was tedious. The dressing up, the expectations and the filtering she had to do on the first date. She never had to do that with Draco, granted, they weren’t dating. It was better, even if it took around five different blind dates gone bad for Hannah to give up and Hermione was glad she was the only one left trying. Ginny, Luna and even Daphne hadn’t bothered.  
   
“I can tell you another thing about him if you’d like,” Daphne steered the topic back to Draco expertly that Hermione couldn’t help but find herself intrigued.  
   
“What?”  
   
“He’s not expecting you to be there, waiting for him when he comes back.”

* * *

Hermione wasn’t sure how she felt about him being in touch with everyone but her and the promise that he would return though not expecting anything from her. Even Harry had heard from the elusive man after the sixth month he was away. She caught Harry muttering under his breath about Draco getting help, though knew it wasn’t her place to ask. Whatever it was that Draco was doing, it was clear he had sworn Harry and all of their mutual friends not to say anything to her.

* * *

 

And she knew what it felt like to celebrate her birthday and Christmas without him.

* * *

 

When she saw him again as the flowers started to bloom, she was sure she was hallucinating. He looked better than she had ever seen him, putting healthy weigh on his bony frame. She tried not to run to him, though her feet betrayed her, she stood before him, breathless.  
   
“You’re really here, right?” She asked, hating how her voice was trembling and full of hope. “I haven’t just gone stir crazy, right?”  
   
“I’m here,” he confirmed, unlike hers, his voice was guarded.  
   
“What now?” she pressed on though terrified to hear what he was going to say. He was back; it just didn’t mean they would be something now.  
   
“I—” Draco began and then hesitated.  
   
Hermione watched as Draco’s eyes roamed over her face. She wondered what kind of hell she looked like to him with her wild hair after a long day of work. What was worse, she wondered what he would say of her heading to his flat instead of hers. She could already guess he knew she had taken over his living space, one of their friends would have told him.  
   
“I doubt I’ll ever feel like I deserve you, Hermione,” he said softly, fidgeting slightly.

She frowned, trying to speak, but the shake of his head stopped her.

“But I learned that it’s not about whether I feel like I deserve you. It’s about whether you want me in spite of that. So –” he sighed. “I’m yours if that’s what you want and I’ll do –”  
   
Whatever that Draco was going to say was lost when Hermione pulled on the lapel of his jacket. He was still ridiculously well dressed. “You talk too much,” she said, no louder than a whisper before pulling him to her, kissing him soundly in the middle of the pavement.  
   
She wasn’t deluded enough to think that it wouldn’t be an uphill battle. Even years after the end of the war, there were still some who weren’t too happy Draco was alive and well. It was one thing for him to be friends with his once nemesis; Harry Potter and another for him to be dating her, still the darling of the wizarding world. Hermione just didn’t care. It was his past that made him the man he was, rough around the edges and yet soft when needed, kind when kindness was due and overall, compassionate. She didn’t want to pretend she wasn’t in love with him anymore, they wasted enough time. World be damned because she knew what she wanted and they would have their friends and family on their side.

* * *

 

**Author's Note:**

> Leave me some love?


End file.
